Stranger
by Dark Syrinx
Summary: Columbia deals with an unexpected stranger. [PreMovie, eventual ColumbiaEddie, rating changed]
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Um, I'm really not sure where this idea came from…but it's pre-movie. Implied Columbia/Frank and Frank/Eddie—though I'm not very fond of either…it's just implied.

Disclaimer: I do not own RHPS. The lovely people at Fox do.

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**Stranger**

Columbia stared at her reflection in the mirror; pale face, rosy cheeks, perfectly plucked eyebrows, smoky-rimmed eyes. She smiled at herself before applying a small amount of red lipstick. She lightly powdered her nose as the final touch. Though she looked perfect, she felt far from it. She glanced at the door to her room and pouted her lips.

"Where is he?" she said with an impatient sigh.

The _he_ she talked about was the alluring Doctor Frank-N-Furter, or just simply Frank. Before he left the castle for a mysterious escapade, he told Columbia to "be ready" by eleven o'clock. Columbia knew that it was well past that hour. She had prepared herself hours ago, but her makeup faded in that time, so she reapplied beauty products to her face. But now what? There was no sign of Frank. And what was Columbia preparing herself for?

A sudden roar ripped through Columbia's contemplative thoughts. Columbia knew the sound: a motorcycle. Was there going to be a party? You never knew what to expect with Frank in charge. Columbia rushed out into the foyer after she heard the sound of Frank's laughter reverberating through the front hall.

"Ooh, Frankie! I thought you'd never…"

Columbia's words were cut short when she saw that Frank was not alone. Standing next to Frank was a heavy-set man with dark brown hair, which had obviously been oiled back hours ago but now fell limply in his face. He wore an old denim jacket with the arms cut off and the edges fraying.

"…come," Columbia finally finished.

Frank's smile stretched wider across his face as he placed a skinny arm 'round the other man's shoulders.

"Columbia, I'd like to introduce you to Eddie," he said with hint of accomplishment in his voice.

"Hi—" Columbia started to say, but was cut off by Frank.

"Unfortunately, I have some…business…to take care of, and it happens to deal with Eddie."

"Oh, okay then," Columbia said with embarrassment.

Frank chuckled and started to walk away with his arm still wrapped around Eddie. Confused but determined, Columbia followed the two men into the next room.

"Frankie, whad'ya ask me to get all dolled up for?" she squeaked, trying to recover back to her bubbly self.

"Pardon me?" Frank stopped abruptly and turned around, his face full of perplexity.

"You told me to 'be ready' by eleven," Columbia explained.

"Oh, that! Well, uhm…I seem to have gotten…_distracted_," Frank said, looking at Eddie and smiling. Eddie smiled back, clearly oblivious to the drama surrounding him. "I'm sorry, darling, we'll have to reschedule."

With that, Frank turned on his heels and disappeared into another room with Eddie still by his side, leaving a teary-eyed Columbia standing near the lift, alone and confused.


	2. Chapter 2

I decided to continue with this story! Whoo-hoo! Yeah, okay...uhh..enjoy this next chapter! Again, please excuse some minor mistakes there might be (though I'm pretty sure there shouldn't be any)  
Disclaimer: I still do not own Rocky Horror, and I never will. :(

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Chapter Two

Columbia lay wide-awake in her small bed, her eyes still puffy from crying. The laughter of Frank and Eddie drifted into the bedroom, and it took all of Columbia's might to stop herself from screaming. She concentrated on the soft breathing of the frizzy haired domestic, Magenta.

Earlier, around midnight shortly after Frank had arrived with the stranger, Columbia had retreated to the room she shared with Magenta. Magenta entered soon after, took one look at Columbia, said nothing, and continued to prepare herself for bed. Columbia choked back sobs, trying to take deep breaths to calm herself down. Nothing worked. She couldn't bear the thought of Frank choosing a fat, greasy-haired biker boy over her. Columbia cried herself to sleep that night.

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As hard as she tried the next day, it was obvious that Columbia was falling apart. She applied her makeup unevenly, wore mismatching shoes with different size heels, and her dress was on backwards. She obviously did not care. 

The messy-haired redhead sat at the large dining table, poking at eggs with a fork. She rested her chin in the palm of her hand, her elbow propped up on the table next to her plate. She continued to play with her food, pushing the thick orange-yellow yolk around the plate and watching it flood back into place. After hours of isolation, the doors to the dining room finally burst open.

"Will you stop the miserable sulking and clean yourself up?" an annoyed voice exclaimed. Columbia knew the voice instantly—Frank.

The sexy transvestite sashayed over to where she sat and stood next to her, hands delicately placed on his hips, left foot tapping impatiently. Columbia sighed and ignored him.

"Don't ignore me!" Frank shouted, grabbing Columbia's wrist and yanking her from her seat. He practically dragged her out of the room and into the large ballroom. Columbia winced in pain.

"Now—listen to me Columbia. I am tired of this pity-party you are throwing for yourself. Stop moping around and enjoy yourself!" Frank ordered before stomping off in his rhinestone pumps.

Instead of obeying his exact orders, Columbia just stood there. Eventually—probably due to the uneven heels—her knees buckled beneath her and she collapsed on the ground. Magenta, who occupied the room dusting the statues, ran to her side, her own boot heels clicking on the marble ground. Columbia let all her limbs go limp, not willing to even attempt to move. Magenta had to drag the drooping body to the bathroom with no help at all.

Magenta propped Columbia up against the wall near the bathtub and started to run the water. Columbia stared lifelessly into the corner. She barely noticed or protested when Magenta stripped her of her shoes, tights, and dress. She did, however, let Magenta assist her into a tubful of warm water. She continued to stay silent as Magenta washed the poor cosmetic job off Columbia's face.

"Why did Frankie do this to me?" Columbia squeaked after a while.

"He is a man. It's vhat they do," Magenta grumbled, scrubbing shampoo into Columbia's ratty hair.

"But he always seemed so happy with me. How the hell is he supposed to have sex with that fat lard?"

"I do not think he'll have any intercourse vith zis Eddie person. If Eddie ever got on top, he'd suffocate Frank before anyzing vould happen," Magenta commented, a smile creeping across her lips.

Columbia burst out laughing at the thought of Frank struggling to breath underneath the weight of Eddie. It was the first time she laughed since Frank brought the intruder home. Magenta laughed with her.

Magenta continued to wash off Columbia, but left when the time came for Columbia to dry off. Columbia thanked her friend, only to get a mumble as a response. Columbia just hoped that Magenta knew how much she appreciated the help.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm back! Okay so here it is…the third chapter of my story. It took me forever, but here it is . There shouldn't be any mistakes...if there are, forgive me. Also--Columbia acts a bit hypocritical in this next chapter. And also: Ragdoll Sins--I put something in there for you...I hope you notice it : )  
Disclaimer: I still don't own RHPS.

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**Chapter 3 **

As the next few days passed by, Columbia learned to—somewhat—tolerate Eddie. She hated being in the same room with him and she never spoke one word to him. But she stopped moping around, just as Frank had ordered. After all, he was her Frankie.

Instead of sulking in Frank's presence, she cried silently to herself at night when she heard sounds of laughter floating from Frank's bedroom. Eventually, though, she was used to it.

One evening, Columbia walked through the house, searching for something to do. Ever since Eddie arrived, Columbia no longer knew what she was to do in the wee hours of the morning—that was always the time she spent with Frank. Columbia opened the doors to the ballroom only to see Eddie sitting by the jukebox. She almost turned around to flee, but decided she might as well talk to him.

"So," she said loudly to get his attention. His head jerked around to the sound of her voice. "How does a guy like you end up with a guy like Frank?"

"What do you mean," Eddie asked, confusion thick in his voice.

"Look at ya. You're totally not Frankie's type. For one thing, look at what you're wearing. Now look at me," Columbia said rather viciously.

Eddie looked down at his boots with embarrassment. A smile spread on Columbia's lips. She liked this idea of making him squirm.

"So, Fattie, whod'ya think Frankie would rather fuck all night long? Me or you?"

"The name's _Eddie_. Not 'Fattie'. And I'd like it if you used 'chubby' instead," Eddie retorted.

Now it was Columbia's turn to be surprised. "I—I'm sorry. Didn't mean to offend you," she said sheepishly, though she really had meant to make him feel uncomfortable. Now that she saw his reaction, she felt bad about it.

"S'okay."

And with that, Eddie turned back to the jukebox. Columbia's face turned a deep shade of pink. She stormed out of the ballroom, her heels clicking wildly.

How dare he turn his back on her? How dare he insult her like that? It was enough to drive Columbia crazy. This man was going to be more trouble than he was worth.

In a blind fury, Columbia tore everything in her bedroom apart; she ripped the wallpaper from the wall, shred her blanket to pieces, and knocked everything off the shelves and dressers. Anything she saw, she grabbed and attempted to mutilate it in every way she could think of. Everything was a blur of feathers and fabric. Columbia suddenly felt a pair of hands pulling her down to the ground. She tried to break free and fight her way out of the grasp, but eventually she surrendered.

Not knowing what to do, Columbia curled herself into a little ball. She let out a mournful wail before a flood of tears came out. The hands still clung to her arms as her body shook.

When Columbia's tears finally subsided, the voice that belonged to the hands asked, "What the hell is going on?"


End file.
